He Wouldn't Do That
by Chatterbox Angel
Summary: It was just Stiles's luck that the first time he was hurt enough to actually land himself in the hospital, there were no supernatural causes or circumstances. Except that it was Derek's fault...okay, no, Derek was just trying to be nice. It had been a human asshole who started the fight. Sterek - Season 3 compliant


He Wouldn't Do That

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters.

It had all started with a pack meeting, which were really fun under Scott's leadership…NOT. He may be an Alpha now, gaining the power through strength of character or whatever, but he still wasn't the best leader of larger groups. It had become apparent very quickly that Scott was far better equipped to deal with smaller groups of maybe four to five people. It was probably a byproduct of 16 years as an insecure, unremarkably, severely asthmatic human follower, and even though he'd grown in his year and a half as a werewolf, Scott couldn't completely break free of that former self. Even Derek, with all his incompetence as an Alpha, had never shown himself to his pack as anything other than a strong and supremely confident (if somewhat grouchy) leader. Scott couldn't claim to have done the same.

This was something the twins (who were still Alphas despite their willingness to submit and Scott's pack) took advantage of almost every meeting. Well, Ethan usually sat quietly, but he did join in with Aiden once in a while. But Aiden just adored causing trouble, and once he got on a roll, it usually took Lydia threatening withhold sex to stop him. Aiden hadn't believed her the first time, but two weeks of forced celibacy had taught the Alpha not to underestimate the Banshee. Add all this to the fact that Derek and Cora had returned to Beacon Hills, and the pack meetings usually devolved into a chaos that lasted well past midnight.

These days, the pack meetings were held in the Hale loft…not the one where Boyd had died. Derek had bought a new one, and since it was the biggest place that wasn't a parent's house anyone in the pack had, they'd decided it was the best place for pack meetings. Anyway, that day, it was 3 am by the time most everyone had finally left the loft, and after Cora had left with Isaac to go do whatever, Stiles and Derek were left alone. Stiles, who had drifted off about an hour before and been awoken by the sudden movement of a departing pack, was preparing himself for the drive home, which seemed a lot longer than it usually did. But Derek was having none of it and started to push Stiles toward his room. Confused but too tired to actually put up a fight, Stiles let himself be manhandled into the bed.

"Sleep," Derek ordered him. "For once in your life, don't try to sneak off somewhere." The human teen considered arguing on principle, but Derek's bed suddenly felt like the most comfortable place in the world, and he was no longer in any hurry to move. Nuh-uh. Never getting up. In fact, Stiles decided that he was never leaving this bed ever again and contentedly sank deeper into the sheets. Besides the orders had probably been Derek's way of telling Stiles that it wasn't safe for him to drive when he was barely able to walk. After all, Derek had been trying to be nicer since he'd gotten back. He was as surly and growly as ever, but at least, the death threats had stopped. Well, since Derek had ordered instead of offered nicely, he'd just have to deal with the consequences of a stubborn Stiles who had no plans of ever getting up.

Come morning (all of three fucking hours) later, Derek's bed still felt like lying on clouds in heaven to Stiles's still-exhausted body, especially when those three hours brought up the last three nights total to barely eight. It was getting increasingly harder to convince himself to get up in the morning, but Stiles managed to drag himself out of bed. And just how was it possible to feel more tired than he had last night? The only saving grace of that morning was Derek waiting for him in the kitchen with already made breakfast. As Stiles wolfed down the bacon, eggs, and sausage (thank you supernatural creatures who like meat), Derek took the opportunity to inform the teen that he would be driving him to school.

For a few moments, Stiles waged on intense battle to swallow rather than spit out the food before coughing out a, "What?!"

"I'm driving you to school," Derek repeated as his eyebrows dared Stiles to argue. Well, if the werewolf was challenging him, who was Stiles to deny him that? Wait…why did he need a ride? Oh shit! What had they done to his Jeep this time?

"What's happened to my baby now?" Stiles practically wailed as he moved to race outside and mourn whatever new wound his car had sustained.

"Nothing," Derek replied, his voice loaded with judgment. "But you look like death warmed over. If it weren't for the tests you have today, I would be taking you home to sleep. But with how obviously exhausted you are, driving this morning isn't really any safer for you than driving home right after the pack meeting would have been. So, I'm taking you."

"Fine, whatever," Stiles grumbled, no longer in the mood to argue as he thought about those stupid tests, one every other period. So, he couldn't really skip out early in the afternoon or arrive to school late after catching a few more hours of sleep. No, today was just going to be one giant suckfest. He could feel it.

Sighing with resigned annoyance, Stiles finished eating breakfast, changed into some of his clothes that he'd long ago stuck in the communal pack closet, and climbed into the passenger's side of Derek's SUV. The ride to the school was silent because even "I'm trying to be nicer" Derek was a quiet Derek, and Stiles was trying to catch an extra couple minutes of shut-eye. Of course, they arrived far too early for Stiles's liking, but he practically shot out of the car once it had stopped anyway. Because there stood Scott, the best friend to ever walk this Earth, holding out a cup of coffee for the exhausted human.

"Scott, you're the best!" Stiles crowed as he climbed out and grabbed at the coffee like it was the Holy Grail. "I love you, man."

Scott's expression was an interesting mix of pleased and grumpy as he admitted, "It was Derek's idea."

"Really?" Stiles asked surprised, but he turned around and leaned over to poke his head in the car.

"Love you too Derek," the human teen said with a laugh. "Coffee is the nectar of the gods. I gladly accept the humble sacrifice you have given to show your worship of the Great Stiles Stillinski!"

Rolling his eyes, Derek shoved him back out of the car saying he'd return after school to pick Stiles up. As he drove off, Stiles shouted, "You can't deny your feelings. You provided coffee!" knowing that the werewolf would still be able to hear him. People were staring now, but Stiles didn't care. He just took a long drink of glorious caffeine and followed Scott into their first period and test of the day.

The day passed as quickly as any filled with several tests could. To Stiles, it was mostly just a blur of black ink on white paper until fifth period was over, and he was finally free of tests. Heading to the locker room with a head full of nothing but thoughts of a nice long nap on the bench during lacrosse practice, he was not prepared for the hand that grabbed him as soon as he'd thrown his backpack into his locker. In a move reminiscent of but not nearly as frightening as a certain werewolf, Stiles was pushed up against the nearest wall.

"Hey Stillinski," a senior by the name of Paul was currently snarling at him. Two of Paul's friends, Noah and Kyle, stood behind Stiles's current attacker. Although, he couldn't understand why this was happening since Paul and his friends usually ignored his existence, a favor that Stiles was all too happy to return.

"So, wanna tell me how _you_ landed someone with model-quality hotness like Derek Hale when you're such a scrawny nobody?" Oh, so that's why he was being slammed against a wall. Some genius had misinterpreted this morning's sarcasm, and now, apparently, there was a rumor that he and Derek were an item. And well, Paul here was well-known to have an extreme aversion to two people who didn't "match well" being in a relationship. Scott had been slammed into a few lockers by Paul and company after getting together with Allison until he had become the school's newest lacrosse star. But Stiles…Stiles was still the school's scrawny geek on the bench at games, and Derek had the body of a Greek God. Paul wouldn't…make that, obviously didn't like that. Birds of a feather should flock together and all that.

"Look," Stiles said with a sigh, hoping that correcting the rumor would get Paul to leave him alone. Despite its propensity to happen around werewolves and all things supernatural, Stiles did not actually enjoy being thrown around like a rag doll. "We're not actually in a relationship."

"No shit, Sherlock," Paul growled. Well, it wasn't really a growl. It was actually pretty pathetic compared to what he was used to hearing, but Stiles figured a growl was what Paul was going for. "I figured that out on my own. At first, I couldn't understand what a hot piece of ass like him would want with you _of all people_, but it makes sense in a way. He's just using you for sex. What I want to know is how you convinced him to go along with it."

"He wouldn't do something like that," Stiles's voice was working without his permission again. Apparently, his brain-to-mouth filter and preservation instincts had been rewired, and his subconscious no longer saw weak human Paul as a threat. His brain knew talking back was a bad idea, but compared to the usual shit he had to deal with, Paul was nothing. And he just couldn't muster the energy to keep his words in check.

"What did you say?" Paul asked, his tone threatening and angry. Again, not that scary anymore.

"Derek wouldn't just use someone for sex," Stiles said confident in the truth that Derek really wouldn't, not after all the shit he'd been through. He wasn't that kind of man. And hell, if his filter wasn't working anyway, Stiles was going to stand up for Derek all the way. Actually, now that he thought about it, he would've done the same thing even if his filter had been working.

They may not be boyfriends (or whatever the hell the rumors said), but he and Derek were friends. Stiles and Scott were already the reason Derek had been wanted for murder…twice…last year; Stiles refused to let this rumor spread lying down. The former Alpha had already lost enough; Stiles didn't want to add to that. And while he was smart enough to know that he couldn't stop everyone from thinking that he and Derek were a couple, Stiles would be damned before he let Paul's version spread.

"He wouldn't to that to anybody, let alone me. Derek isn't like that. And if you try to convince anyone otherwise, you will regret it."

"Oh, what, you're gonna stop me?" Paul asked with a mocking sneer. Kyle and Noah laughed heartily at the thought. "You and what geek army?"

"Aiden. Ethan. Isaac. Scott." He was tempted to include Danny too, since he was pretty sure the other teen would back him up on principle alone even if he didn't know Derek all that well. But at the same time, he didn't need to. The four werewolves were all built like brick houses (yay supernatural strength), and with a single word from Stiles, Scott would assemble them to protect Stiles from anything, even a comparatively, pathetically weak human like Paul…even if it was while Stiles was defending Derek's honor. And by the look on Paul's face, he knew that Stiles may be a scrawny geek, but in the completely non-magical world of high school, he was a scrawny geek with friends in high places.

Point made, Stiles forced his way out of Paul's grip and tried to squeeze passed him. Wrong move. Kyle instantly grabbed Stiles by the scruff of the neck and slammed him into another set of lockers. Oh hell no! Stiles may not be able to stop the supernatural from using him as a punching bag, but he was so completely done letting humans get away with it. As he mentally prepared himself to fight them, blessed adrenaline flooded through his system.

In the resulting scuffle, Stiles took the worst of it by far, but his recent self-defense lessons with Allison were starting to pay off. He got in a few really good hits and managed to stay upright, keeping the other three from beating the snot out of him. And just when he knew he wasn't going to be able to last much longer against their assault, Scott, Ethan, Isaac, and Aiden burst into the locker room. Unfortunately, when Stiles sagged with relief upon seeing them, it was too soon, and Noah was able to get in one last really good headshot. The last thing Stiles remembered before passing out was hearing four simultaneous, spine-chilling, and truly frightening growls.

When he next awoke, Stiles groaned. He had been so right. The day had indeed turned out to be a giant Festival of Suck that ended with him in the hospital…and Fuck, his head was throbbing. More than that, he hated the hospital. Visiting was tolerable, but being a patient was the worst. The smell was too clean and too sanitary; it reminded him of death, of weeks spent in the hospital at his dying mother's side. The sudden lack of control over his own fate was just as bad. Everything else was decided by other people here: when he could eat, when he could sleep, when he could get up, and worst of all, when he could leave.

"You'll be able to leave in the morning," Scott's voice startled him but was so very, very welcome. "It's mostly bruises except for that really big bump on your head. Keeping you overnight is for observation purposes and stuff."

"Good," Stiles said as he tried to sit up a bit and winced as his head exploded with pain. Okay, no moving. He could do that…maybe. "Well, not really good. But you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," Scott replied with a smile as he leaned over and placed his hand on Stiles's head. Yep, Scott was officially the best friend ever. Hello weirdo voodoo werewolf magic. Good-bye throbbing pain! "So, how'd you end up in here anyway?"

"Seriously Scott?" the human teen asked incredulously, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Because to do that, he'd have to move, and he wanted to keep Scott's hand right where it was, thank you very much. "Seriously? I thought it was pretty obvious Paul and his goons were beating the crap out of me."

"Yeah, that's the part that doesn't really make sense," Scott said in a tone that demanded answers. Hey, he was immune to "Stiles Shit", and his Alpha-ness did make an appearance once in a while. "Normally, they ignore you. What changed?"

"You really expect me to believe you didn't beat it out of them?" Okay, so Stiles was deflecting. Sue him for not wanting to talk about his suddenly shifting and completely confusing Derek Hale-shaped feelings with Scott…make that anybody. Besides, it was a valid argument. They'd hadn't had any conflicts with Paul's group since Scott's rise in popularity, and his best friend would want to know why that had changed. Scott would want to know if this was a one-time thing, or if it was a continuing problem. Stiles knew this, just like he knew that Scott would've demanded answers from them like right away.

"Didn't get the chance," Scott answered with a chuckle. "Turns out the twins actually like you. Paul, Kyle, and Noah were unconscious on the ground before I could even say a word. They've got their own rooms in this place."

"Great," Stiles drawled out in the most sarcastic tone he could muster. Damn it, he was going to have to give Scott answers, wasn't he? It's not like the werewolves could go after Paul & Co. in a freaking hospital…not that he would put it past them trying. Still, this wasn't worth that. Standing up for Derek really wasn't that big of a deal, because Stiles took care of his friends. That's how he was. The fight had been more about him standing up to Paul than the Derek thing. At least, that's what he was going to tell Scott and hoped to God that it was enough of the truth that Scott didn't detect a lie in his heart beat. Because if that wasn't the truth, Stiles didn't really know what was.

"Okay, I'll take the twins and Isaac, and we'll have a nice little chat with Paul's group after they wake up," Scott said with a smirk. Stiles figured he was going for a predatory sort of expression, but Scott still pretty much seemed like a giant puppy. He couldn't really pull off predatory unless he was murderously angry, which didn't happen often. "So, anyway, when were you going to tell me you're in love with Derek?"

Of all the things Stiles was expecting Scott to say, it certainly wasn't that, especially since he'd just realized that _maybe_ he _might_ have romantic feelings for the former alpha. If he could do so without extreme pain, Stiles would have flailed himself right out of bed. As it was, his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets, and his mouth opened and closed, searching for words to say that just weren't coming out. Of course, words deserted him once it mattered; they always did.

"Scoooooott," Stiles finally managed to say something, but it came out as a whine. Didn't matter, he was going to role with it. "I'm not in love with Derek. I was just standing up for a friend."

"Uh huh," Scott said with a raised eyebrow and a tone that said he absolutely, one hundred percent did not believe the malarkey coming from Stiles's mouth. "But, really…Derek? It's just…_Derek._" Yeah, those bridges hadn't burned completely. If there was one thing that constantly annoyed Stiles as much as Scott's Allison Goggles, it was the Derek Goggles (basically, the opposite of Allison Goggles in that Scott refused to see any of Derek's good points like he refused to see Allison's bad ones). "It's a little, okay a lot, weird, and he better treat you well. But if he makes you happy, I'm not going to say anything against it."

"Scott, that's a nice sentiment," Stiles tried again, because it was a nice thought. Knowing his best friend, it wouldn't last very long, but still, it was a nice thought. "But it's irrelevant. I'm really not in love with Derek."

"Stiles…"

"No, Scott."

"Stiles, I can hear it."

"You're wrong Scott."

"You know I can hear when you lie."

"I'm not…"

"It's okay if you don't want to admit it."

"Scooooott." This time, he was stressing his friend's name through clenched teeth.

"I'm just saying it's okay, even if it is Derek Hale."

"DAMN IT, SCOTT!" Stiles was actually shouting now. So focused on verbal denial and glaring at Scott, he didn't notice the door open or the two men who walked in until it was too late to stop himself. "I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH DEREK!"

As soon as these words flew out of his mouth, dead silence fell in the room, well as silent as any hospital room can be with the stupid beeping. It took less than a second for Stiles to notice his father and Derek standing in the doorway, and if he had been feeling up to it, Stiles would've been hard pressed to decided which one looked more shocked. Scott's smirk instantly went from predatory fail to masterful teasing, and Stiles's face bloomed a bright, deep red of mortification. The amber-eyed teen stared at the two men in horror for all of thirty seconds before deciding his time would be much better spent burrowed under the sheets, and as soon as he decided that, he pulled said sheets over his head to cover himself completely, ignoring the increase in pain after pushing off Scott's hand. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the machines went haywire. Great, now everyone in the hospital could hear him dying of mortification.

"I guess we need to have that talk now," the Sherrif's voice cut through the silence like the sharpest steel blade. Not that anyone could see it, but Stiles's cheeks burned even brighter as he thought back to that one conversation outside the Jungle. Turned out he could be gay, after all huh Dad? Stiles was officially Irony's bitch.

"I'll just be going, shall I?" Scott said, and Stiles whimpered when he heard the scrape of a chair, footsteps, and gentle slamming of a door. Scott was a traitor! It was all his fault Stiles had outed himself mere minutes after realizing his own feelings. There were going to be serious words later.

"Son, would you like to come out of there so we can talk about this like adults?" the Sheriff sounded much calmer than Stiles ever would have been given leave to expect in this situation, but that didn't erase any of the mortification that came with his father and Derek finding out about his feelings at the same time. If anything, it made the embarrassment worse. Still, the sheriff seemed willing to talk, so maybe there was hope (you know, assuming he had the slightest chance with Derek, which he didn't, so…).

"No," Stiles was aware that he sounded like a child, thank you very much, but he managed to pull himself out from under the covers after a few seconds. Derek still looked shocked, but not in a bad way, so Stiles counted that as a win. And surprisingly, his dad looked more resigned than anything else…huh?

"Stiles," the sheriff's tone almost sounded like an elongated sigh. "Do you know what it says about the situation that I am more surprised by you shouting your feelings loud enough for the entire hospital to hear than I am by the fact that you are in love with Derek Hale?" Stiles shook his head no (and he would deny to his dying day that said head shake was accompanied by a girlish "meep". But Derek's expression suggested that he'd just been hit over the head with a shovel, so there was that to make him feel a bit better.).

"It means I've had a long time to think about this," the sheriff said, and this time, he definitely sighed as he rubbed a hand over his face. "Look, I've known that you have feelings for Derek for a while, and I'm not exactly thrilled with the fact that he's a werewolf and an ex-felon…and seven years older than you. But I almost lost you far too many times in the last two years to let something like this come between us. So, if you two decide you would like to pursue a relationship, I'm not going to stop you. I will, however, be setting rules and expect certain details…god knows I'll get more than I want with your lack of filter…" The father and son duo shared a fondly understanding smile at those words. "And I'll be setting down certain rules and guidelines to said relationship. That being said, Derek, I do own a gun, and thanks to Chris Argent, I now have access to wolfs bane bullets."

"Daaaaaad," Stiles tone really couldn't be described as anything but a whine. But really? His dad was threatening Derek before Stiles even knew if he had a chance at a relationship with the guy!

"Just a simple statement of fact," the sheriff said, completely unrepentant.

"Uh-huh," Stiles replied, sarcasm coloring his tone for a moment. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Stiles," his dad returned with a warm smile. "Now how about I leave you two alone so you can talk?" And then, he turned around and left, shutting the door behind him and leaving a slightly tense silence between two males who really weren't ready to have this talk yet. Unfortunately for them, the time had come.

"Soooo," Stiles started awkwardly, after he couldn't take the tense silence any longer. "It was…uh…pretty obvious, wasn't it?...The lie…when I said…that I'm not, you know…"

"What kind of coffee do you want for tomorrow?" Derek asked awkwardly, looking at everything in the hospital room that wasn't Stiles. And, oh my god, Derek was honest to god fidgeting. Stiles didn't think the former Alpha was capable of doing something so normal. Also, now that he was really looking, the human noticed that Derek actually looked vulnerable, but for the life of him, he really couldn't figure out why. All Sourwolf had done was ask what kind of coffee Stiles preferred, which is so the thing a guy wants to hear when he's basically confessing his love for you…except not! Seriously, Derek never cared about Stiles's preferred flavor of caffeine addiction before. In fact, the one time the former Alpha provided him his beloved beverage, he had pawned the errand off on Scott, and oh…Oh…OH!

He was asking what kind of coffee Stiles wanted. He was going to give Stiles coffee. Stiles absolutely did not melt at that thought. He totally didn't, ok? Ok? Ok, fine. He totally did melt at that. Stiles was now no more than a giant puddle of melted, happy, in love with Derek goo, and the best part was that this puddle of goo's feeling were not entirely one-sided. Derek was going to give Stiles coffee. Derek loved him too.

"Would you be willing to snag me a pumpkin spiced latte from Starbucks?" Stiles asked, cheeks turning pink, trying really hard to ignore the way the heart monitor was doing absolutely nothing to hide how fast his heart was beating…his dad must have told the nurses what was going on, otherwise someone probably would have come to check on the weird readings by now. And yes, Stiles was fully aware that Derek, the werewolf, was capable of hearing the erratic heartbeat with his super-hearing, but hearing it himself was so much worse than just knowing that Derek could hear it.

"Sure," Derek said, and that was it. Okay, that wasn't it. Derek sat down on the chair next to the bed, and they had a nice long talk about how Derek was grateful Stiles cared enough to defend his honor, but if he ever scared Derek like this again, there would be consequences. Because Stiles would never be anyone but himself, he pointed out that he had no control over the crazy supernatural forces of the universe that seemed to be constantly after him, but he did promise that he would actively try to be more careful than he'd had been in the past, on the condition that Derek did the same. This got him an eye-roll, which he expected, and an exasperatedly fond smile, which he had never seen before and made his heart pick up in double time…by the way, was it a crime to decimate his own heart monitor? Wait, no, the thing could live another day, but only because Derek's exasperatedly fond smile turned into a purely fond one. And yes, the heart monitor told everyone who bothered to hear it how Stiles felt about that too.

"I actually have to go now," the werewolf said, eyes conveying a sort of wistful regret. "I really just came to see how you were doing."

"But you're coming tomorrow, right?" Stiles asked. "With coffee?"

"With coffee," Derek promised, that fond smile turning slightly vulnerable before he leaned over and pressed his lips against Stiles's in a gentle kiss. For all that it was completely chaste, Stiles actually whimpered when it was over, but the resulting happiness in Derek's eyes? Yeah, totally worth it.

When Stiles woke up the next morning, his werewolf had already arrived. Said werewolf was back in the chair he had occupied the previous night, holding a still steaming cup of coffee.

"This is me," Derek said, handing over the pumpkin spiced latte with that small, vulnerable smile Stiles was quickly becoming extremely fond of. "Not denying my feelings."

Accepting the heavenly nectar as he took a happy whiff of the steam, Stiles replied, "I love you too, Sourwolf."

A/N: Hello and welcome to the end of He Wouldn't Do That. Hope you enjoyed it. Quick note to my readers: for those waiting for the next chapter of Little Bundle Bereft of Joy. I'm sorry, but you're going have to wait a bit longer. I have a good chunk of it written, but it's not enough for a whole chapter. And right now, all my time is being taken up by school and a new Sterek fic I started for NaNoWriMo. So, at least there's that to look forward to, right? Anyway, I wrote the vast majority of this fic back in October and putting just the finishing touches on it served as a nice break to NaNo.

And as always, I love reviewers, but I do have a request. I would really love for someone to seriously critique my work. It doesn't have to stop at constructive criticism. I'd love for someone to really pick apart my work and tell me every little thing they hated, what needs to be improved, and what parts of my writing they liked best. Believe me when I say I love all reviews, and it's really nice to know people appreciate my work. However, I'm a far cry from being perfect, and there's always room to improve. Also, if I can get better, I can give better fan fiction to my readers. Anyway, thanks again for reading this fan fiction and hopefully you seriously considered my request.


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